


those two

by stupidsensitivecoward



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, CGLRE, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, agere, caregiver!Leo, little!Ian Fletcher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29487324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidsensitivecoward/pseuds/stupidsensitivecoward
Summary: Oneshot going to be turned into a series...-Fletcher had landed himself in another hotel bar, one more successful mission added to his growing list. He was tired, and his palms felt weak, but he was okay. The mission was good – he did good. His handler, Miller, had let him be after he made his way back to the hotel, and now he was alone. Well, less than alone, since people soured by the scent of beer and expensive wines filled the open-spaced room around him. One man… intrigued Fletcher.His voice was roughened by cigarettes as he talked to a wandering waiter about getting another glass, and Fletcher looked at him from across the room with soft, weakened eyes. There was no doubt this man was Daddy material. His stooped shoulders should’ve sent an edge of fear slicing through Fletcher, particularly when he suddenly lifted his hand, but Fletcher wanted nothing more than to be held against his chest.
Kudos: 11





	those two

**Author's Note:**

> cw: Pet names (bud, sweetheart, kid, kiddo, sugar, love (im british i couldnt help it ok), honey, hon), a gun, platonic bathtime because yes. Nothing else in this chapter :) (lemme know if there's anything i should add xx)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this! I'm planning on turning this into a series, and possibly having elements of it in the canon lore of the book but don't tell anyone lmao.

Fletcher had landed himself in another hotel bar, one more successful mission added to his growing list. He was tired, and his palms felt weak, but he was okay. The mission was good – he did good. His handler, Miller, had let him be after he made his way back to the hotel, and now he was alone. Well, less than alone, since people soured by the scent of beer and expensive wines filled the open-spaced room around him. One man… intrigued Fletcher.  
His voice was roughened by cigarettes as he talked to a wandering waiter about getting another glass, and Fletcher looked at him from across the room with soft, weakened eyes. There was no doubt this man was Daddy material. His stooped shoulders should’ve sent an edge of fear slicing through Fletcher, particularly when he suddenly lifted his hand, but Fletcher wanted nothing more than to be held against his chest.   
The man sent Fletcher a warm, welcoming smile, despite his cold posture. Fletcher tried to bite back an excited grin. The man let out a silent chuckle. He checked no one was looking, and when the coast was clear, made a few silly faces in Fletcher’s direction. Fletcher lets out a loud giggle, then flushes as he catches the attention of the people around him.  
“Had a bit much, have ya?” one of the men sat at a barstool either side of him asks. Fletcher feels his cheeks darken even more, and he wants nothing more than to bury his head into a stuffie. They’d noticed – and he was getting small, he knew, but what if he left to go to his room and he never saw the man again?

Fletcher finds himself, an hour later, still making occasional eye contact with the brooding man. Every time their eyes meet, the man lets out a coarse but somehow still so warm smile, and Fletcher squeaks inaudibly and turns away. It’s late and the bar is nearly empty, aside for a family of four waiting for their parents to check in. And, of course, Fletcher and the man.  
The man stands, startling Fletcher. The man almost looks guilty for a quarter of a second. He somehow carried his shoulders hunched even as he walked, but Fletcher wasn’t scared. Embarrassed, maybe a little ( a lot), but not scared. He took a seat at the adjacent barstool, and Fletcher immediately burrowed his head into his arms. When the bartender had his back turned, the man turned to face Fletcher.   
“Hey, bud. My name’s Leo.” His voice was hoarse and cold, but, like the rest of him, had a tinge of fondness and amusement.  
There was no way he didn’t know Fletcher was a little.   
“Am I gonna get the pleasure of seeing your face tonight?” Fletcher shook his head a little, letting out a tiny whine. Nobody else would have heard it – certainly not the bartender, who seemed content to leave the two be and take empty glasses to the kitchens to be cleaned. Leo pushed his own glass aside. He’d had enough to leave a pleasant hum in his chest, but he couldn’t be sure whether that was the scotch or the boy beside him. Leo flicked his jacket sleeve back to reveal a gold watch. 11:23.   
“Hey, kid, I think it’s gotta be way past your bedtime now, don’t you think?”  
“Don’ have a bedtime,” Fletcher murmured. Leo was a little taken aback, but didn’t let it show. He watched Fletcher shuffle uncomfortably on the cracked red leather of the barstool, head lifting slightly.  
“Hey, there he is,” Leo encouraged, earning a tired, lopsided smile.   
“How come you don’t have a bedtime?” he asked under his breath. The bartender had stepped back behind the bar, messing with bottles on the shelves.  
“Nobody ta look after me,” Fletcher’s voice, still barely a breath of a whisper, nearly cracked. He wanted someone to look after him. So, so bad.  
“A small boy like yourself shouldn’t have to do that all himself…” Leo’s voice trailed off slightly. “You know,” he started, “I think you’re super amazing to be able to look after yourself for so long.”  
Leo could sense the boy’s forthcoming tears, and was trying to stall at least until he could get him away from the bartender.   
“Don’ wanna..” Fletcher mumbled after a few moments.   
“Oh, sweetheart…” Leo reached a tentative hand out, holding it softly against Fletcher’s warm, pink dusted cheek. There was a ripple of silence, before Leo’s lip quirked into a smile.  
“I’ve got an idea, bud. How about I take care of you, just for tonight? Then we’ll see how you feel in the morning.”  
Fletcher looked up hopefully. And Leo’s heart clenched. The boy’s muddy eyes were still glistening with unshed tears, filled with hope and innocence. “Stay?” he whispered.  
“As long as you need, I promise.”   
Fletcher hesitantly leant forward, then threw himself into Leo’s arms.  
“Hey, hey, kid, its alright. I’m here.”  
Fletcher let out a tiny sob, forgetting the bartender was there. “Thank you…” he said, voice airier than ever before.  
“Let’s head up to your room then, hm? How does that sound?” Fletcher gave a shaky nod.  
“Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Although long gone, having stepped back to let little Fletcher out, Fletcher’s big side was ever so slightly more comfortable with going back to his own room instead of Leo’s. After all, they’d only just met an hour or two ago. Who was to say this guy wasn’t a spy from another country sent to kill Fletcher?   
Fletcher whined. He didn’t want to think about that. Leo noticed Fletcher’s distress, reaching a caring hand to stroke at his hair. Actions were better than words for now, he supposed.   
The two reached the stairs before long, and, since the lifts were out of order, began to climb. Leo could feel Fletcher slowing as he leant into him.   
“Hey, sugar, want me to carry you?” Fletcher gave a hazy nod. Leo crouched a little, putting one arm behind Fletcher’s knees and the other on his back. He swung Fletcher’s legs forward and lifted him up. Giggling slightly, Fletcher burrowed into Leo’s chest. 

“Kid, what’s your room number?”   
“Can’t ‘emember..” Fletcher mumbled, leaving Leo a little worried. Was he always this vulnerable and forgetful when he was small? Not that Leo minded, at all, but the boy had been looking after himself for quite a while…   
“Come on, bud, you’ve got to try, okay? Do you remember what floor it was?” Fletcher, not looking up from where he had his head against Leo’s heart, held up two fingers.   
“Well done!” Leo praised, continuing to trudge up the stairs. Fletcher may have been fit and healthy, as he had to be for work, but he wasn’t light.   
“Now, can you tell me whether it was at the end of the hall, in the middle, or around here?”  
Fletcher looked up a little, gathering his bearings. A blurred vignette curled around his view, threatening to send him to sleep.  
“End…”  
“Alright bud, you’re doing great.” Fletcher squirmed happily at the praise.   
“You think you could hand me your key?” Fletcher shuffled in Leo’s arms, reaching for his pocket. He pulled out a white piece of plastic, graced with a black strip on one side.  
“Thanks, love.”  
Leo began the slow process of trying to unlock the doors at the end of the hall. He only had one door left, and was beginning to lose hope. “Hey, buddy, you sure it was the second floor?”  
Fletcher nodded. He looked up once more, then let out a giggle.  
“Wrong way.” Leo stood for a second, confused. Had he gone the wrong way down the hall, or the stairs? He felt Fletcher slip the card back into his own, fumbling grip, turning it the right way up and slipping it into the door. Leo let out a chuckle.   
“Well done, honey. You did a good job!”  
Fletcher smiled, biting his lip excitedly.

Leo kept a hold of Fletcher until they got into the room. He settled the boy on the bed, then stretched his back. Fletcher grinned giddily, rolling onto his back.  
“You’re excitable now, huh?”  
Fletcher nodded.  
Leo stopped. He realised he didn’t even know what the boy’s name was.  
“What’s your name, kiddo?”  
“Fl- Ian.”  
“Fleean? That’s a cool name.”  
“Nooo,” Fletcher giggled. “M name’s Ian, but most people call me Fle- Flet—” Fletcher huffed. “Can’t say it.”  
“That’s alright, bud. You’re pretty small, aren’t you?”  
Fletcher nodded. He burrowed his head into the pillow, flushing slightly. Leo looked around, trying to locate Fletcher’s bags.   
“Honey, you got any little gear with you?”  
Fletcher nodded.   
“You wanna help me look for it?” A headshake. Leo sighed. “Can I look in your bags, then?”  
Fletcher murmured out a small ‘yes’.   
Leo began by opening the suitcase by his feet. He began to rifle through the clothes. There was all sorts of things, but there was a soft set of pyjamas buried beneath everything else. Pulling them out revealed their design, a light blue tartan. Leo set them aside and kept digging, finding nothing else. Checking the side pockets rewarded him with nothing but dust and sand from previous trips.   
“Want Lion.”  
“Your stuffie?”  
“Mhm.”  
“Where do you keep her?” Fletcher lazily pointed at his backpack, big side too far gone to remember what else he kept in there.  
Leo made his way over to the large bag. It was black with light blue zippers, and Leo couldn’t help but smile at the small pop of colour. The high pitched sound of the zipper undoing tore into the room, and Fletcher shot up. “No!” he yelled, diving across the room to stop Leo from seeing what was in the bag.   
But it was too late. Leo stared at the item in his hand with contempt.   
“Little boys shouldn’t have things like this.” Leo’s voice wasn’t angry – it stayed calm, a little bitter, possibly, but not at Fletcher. Fletcher felt hot tears track down his cheeks as he sniffled.   
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out. Leo held the pistol loosely in his hands, checking to at least see if the safety was on. It was, but it didn’t change the fact that Fletcher had a gun. For now, Leo put the gun on top of the wardrobe, out of Fletcher’s reach.   
“Honey, come here.”  
Fletcher did as told, shaking. He stood anxiously, with his arms hugged into his chest and shoulders curled in.  
“I’m not mad, buddy. We’ll talk about that later, if you let me stick around. For now, let’s focus on getting you into bed, hm?”   
Fletcher nodded, wiping his sleeve under his nose.  
“Don’t do that, hon.” Leo pulled a tissue from the box on the desk and dabbed at Fletcher’s cheeks.   
“Now,” he said, once Fletcher’s face was a little less red, “I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”  
Fletcher nodded once more. He avoided Leo’s gaze, eyeline flicking between his feet and the bathroom door.   
“What you thinking, bud?”  
Fletcher looked up at Ian, mumbling something under his breath.   
“I didn’t catch that, love, you’re gonna have to speak up a little bit.”  
“…Bath?” Fletcher’s voice was hardly any louder than before, shy and embarrassed.   
“Of course you can have a bath, bud. Let me get one started for you.” Leo turned away from Fletcher to go into the bathroom, and Fletcher bit back a whine.  
The sound of the bath taps running almost sent Fletcher into a deep sleep right there, stood, still in his dress shoes and jacket. Leo remerged from the bathroom, smiling softly at Fletcher.  
“Come on,” he said. “Do you need any help getting undressed?”  
Fletcher hesitated for a moment. Did he? Maybe. Probably…  
“Please,” he decided.  
“Alright.” Leo stepped closer, slipping off Fletcher’s jacket. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, only pausing to check Fletcher was okay with him taking his slacks off. Fletcher gave a small nod with a reassuring little smile, and Leo continued. 

Leo helped Fletcher into the warm bath, then went to sit on the edge.  
“Nooo,” Fletcher whined. “In.”  
Leo chuckled. “Alright bud, lemme get ready first, okay?” Leo undressed quickly, hanging his clothes in a pile over the towel rack. He slipped into the water behind Fletcher, running a carefree hand through the boy’s hair. The two were happy to just sit, even as the warm water cooled, and it wasn’t long before Fletcher slipped a little further down against Leo’s chest, breath evening as his muscles loosened. Leo rested his head atop of Fletcher’s before gently getting him out of the bath and ready for bed.


End file.
